Once in a while, it’s grand fun to act on impulse and tear open the plastic wrapper (Scintilli’s limited edition comes with a nicely designed pointless object, or “muda na mono”) and have some sweet treat. Like a gummy bear or a Snickers, this album is perfectly constructed to hit those spots in the brain that crave immediate satisfaction. In fact, if one embraces this album for the splendor of sound and ignores the premature dramatic fizz-outs, it’s a dream to listen to (with the exception of the irritating “African Woods”). Yet after all that work, it’s a shame to produce something so devoid of grit or humanity. Handley and Turner may enjoy what they are doing, but the album lacks an emotional element that even the most perfect digital delivery cannot fake.
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